


House Hunting

by TheGreatSporkWielder



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 13:55:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatSporkWielder/pseuds/TheGreatSporkWielder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drake and Gos go house-hunting. Post-"Darkly Dawns the Duck."</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Hunting

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at FFN on 10/20/2009.
> 
> I do not own _Darkwing Duck._ Sadly.
> 
> One thing I really loved about this show was, as far as I can recall, after "Darkly," it was never mentioned that Gos wasn't Drake's natural daughter. They just fell right into that father/daughter dynamic and I _adore_ their relationship. So sweet and funny and you can tell they love each other a lot, even when they're sniping.

"Alrighty," said Launchpad as the car _screeched_ to a halt in front of a large house with a "FOR SALE" sign in the yard, barely missing a trash can sitting on the curb. "I think this is the one."

Drake groaned as he adjusted the bandages over his forehead where they had shifted from their impact with the dashboard. "Launchpad, remind me to get you some driving lessons," he grumbled as he poked his head out of the window and squinted at the mailbox. "537 Avian Way," he read, glancing down at the brochure in his hand. He glanced back out of the window at the pale yellow house, its red roof and blue chimney gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. "This is it. Come on, Gos." He flung open his car door and gingerly pulled himself out of the car; balancing precariously on his tender feet as he reached back to retrieve his crutches.

Gosalyn nearly catapulted out of the backseat and grabbed Drake's hand, dragging him across the grass to the front door, nearly causing him to smack into a large tree in the center of the yard. "Can we go inside?" she asked excitedly, quivering with anticipation as a smartly dressed woman stepped out of a dark green car that had parked behind Launchpad's.

"Certainly, dear," said the realtor as she strode up the driveway, smoothing her hair and glancing askance at Launchpad's attempt at parking. Satisfied that he hadn't ruined the front lawn, she took a large key ring out of her purse and unlocked a small gray box near the front of the house. She plucked a small key from the box and used it to unlock the front door. "But before we go in, I hope you noticed the landscaping in the front yard, especially all these nice trees and the edging along the driveway. It makes for nice, clean lines, don't you think, Mr. Mallard? I'm sure you also noticed that the backyard is completely fenced in; a comfort to you, I'm sure, what with the child and all." Without turning to hear Drake's answer, she swung the door open and, as the group made their way into the empty living room, the realtor said, "Now, Mr. Mallard, I think this one is really what you're looking for. Three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, and-" she gestured to her left, "the kitchen was fully remodeled just last year; all the appliances are top-of-the-line! There's also this nice large living room."

Drake nodded absentmindedly as he glanced around the room. Gosalyn's head was swinging back and forth so quickly, Drake wondered if it might eventually fall off.

"Keen gear!" Gosalyn exclaimed. "Does this mean I get my own room?"

"Well, of course," said Drake, smiling down at her. "You're certainly not bunking with me!"

Gosalyn's eyes lit up and she flung her arms around Drake's waist and hugged him tightly. He winced as she squeezed his bruised ribs. Gosalyn immediately loosened her grip, sending him an apologetic glance as she stepped back, her excitement returning with every passing moment.

"Wow! I haven't had my own room since I went to the orphanage! Can I go pick my room?" she asked, eyes widening as she spotted the stairs to the second floor.

"Sure," said Drake. "But the master bedroom's mine. You can have either of the others."

Gosalyn grinned and dashed away.

"Oh, boy," muttered Drake to the realtor, whose face twisted into something that looked like fear as Gosalyn galumphed up the stairs, sending loud thuds (and something that sounded suspiciously like a crash) reverberating throughout the house. "Gosalyn, sweetie, let's try not to put a hole in the ceiling until we _own_ the house, okay?" he called as he slowly made his way up the stairs to the second floor. Just as he reached the top stair, Gosalyn came barreling through a door across from him. Drake braced himself and sighed resignedly as Hurricane Gosalyn snatched his hand and hauled him into the room.

"I want _this_ one!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms wide as though she was an artist introducing her latest masterpiece. "Isn't it the _best_?"

Drake couldn't help smiling again. Her enthusiasm sure was contagious. He was about ready to buy this house just so they could stop looking already. This was only the first house on the realtor's list (he'd seen her eying it; boy, was it a _long_ list), and his head was pounding and he still hurt _everywhere_. And he still had mountains of paperwork with Mrs. Cavanaugh to look forward to as soon as they got back to the orphanage.

"Oh, and Mr. Mallard?" The realtor's head poked into the room. Once Drake and Gosalyn were looking at her, she said, "I forgot to mention that the neighbors have a nice boy about your daughter's age. And since this neighborhood is right near the school, she would be sure to have plenty of friends living nearby." She smiled and left them alone to talk things out.

Drake turned around to see Gosalyn smiling so widely it made his cheeks hurt just to look at her.

"Did you hear _that_?" Gosalyn beamed up at him. "She called me your daughter!"

"Well, kiddo, you very soon will be, you know," replied Drake, smoothing his hand across her hair and tweaking a pigtail.

Gosalyn sighed happily and hugged him again. With her arms still wrapped around his waist, she flung her head back to look him in the eye. "By the way, what am I supposed to call you? I can't exactly go around calling you 'Darkwing' all the time."

Drake shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it. 'Drake' is fine, I guess."

"Can I call you 'Dad'?" she asked, her green eyes turning serious.

Warmth spread through Drake's chest at her simple, yet heartfelt question. _Dad_. Such a small word, and yet it meant so much. To Gosalyn, who'd been desperate for a father ever since her grandfather had died. To him; who, as he gazed down at the child in his arms, was just now beginning to understand the depths of meaning that small, seemingly insignificant word could have.

He'd felt a sort of kinship with Gosalyn soon after he'd met her; a kinship that had only deepened during the whole ordeal with Taurus Bulba. Maybe it had begun when he'd sung her to sleep. Or maybe it had been when she'd soundly beat his time at preparing breakfast and followed it up by stoutly ordering him to wear a motorcycle helmet. Or was it when she'd blackmailed him into letting her stay in his hideout? "Supposed to be irresponsible," ha!

He should have realized he was a goner the first instant he'd seen her, facing off against Hammerhead Hannigan and his horrible henchmen, eyes and pigtails blazing, swinging those skates around like nunchucks.

Carefully kneeling down to meet her gaze, he cupped her cheek with his uninjured hand and said, "Gos, I only hope I can be worthy of that name."

"Oh, Dad," she said, flinging her arms around his neck, "you always have been. Now," she said as she abruptly pulled back (jerking Drake out of the daze he'd gone into upon hearing her call him 'Dad') and resumed glancing over the room, "enough mushy stuff. Can we paint the walls green? That would be so cool! These walls are the same color as at the orphanage, yuck! I think I want my bed to go here, is that okay? Can I have a ladder so I can climb up and sit up in that part above the window? It'd be like my own secret hideout! And I'm going to need somewhere to keep all my hockey gear. I do get to bring that with me, right? Remember to ask Mrs. Cavanaugh, would you, Dad? Though she might still be mad about the pig thing. Tell her none of it was my idea, okay? Because I wanted to use a skunk. But don't tell her that part. Oh, and I need to remember to get my soccer ball and baseball glove back from…" the rest of what she was saying became unintelligible as she began muttering to herself, wandering around the room as she planned the Perfect Bedroom Layout.

Drake shook his head in bemusement as he stood back up. _Something tells me that being Gosalyn's dad is going to be an even bigger challenge than anything Darkwing Duck will ever face,_ he thought as he made his way back downstairs.

Launchpad met him at the base of the stairs. "Gee, DW," he said. "This place sure looks nice!"

"Yes, it does," replied Drake. "And it's got enough room so we can do some… _remodeling_ ," he finished in a whisper.

"What kind?" asked Launchpad, scratching his head. "I suppose we could put in a sunroom or something over here, but-"

Drake rolled his eyes. "Not _that_ kind of remodeling, Launchpad!" he hissed. "I mean, putting in some kind of shortcut to Darkwing Tower. Maybe over there," he gestured to a corner of the living room. "Maybe using the couch? Or some recliners? Maybe I can finally get some use out of that Basil statue Director Hooter got for me in London last summer. Hmm, we'll have to work on that."

Before Launchpad could say anything, the realtor spoke up from behind them. "Mr. Mallard, if you want to see any of the other available homes, we'll need to leave in a few minutes. Our next appointment is in-"

"No need," Drake interrupted. "We'll take this one."

The realtor's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Well, then." She cleared her throat. "I suppose I'll just dash out to my car and get the paperwork?" At Drake's nod, she walked off, her heels clacking loudly in the momentary silence.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Gosalyn came running into the room. "Are we getting this one?" she asked.

Drake nodded.

"Great!" Gosalyn exclaimed. "Dad, did you see the yard? It's _huge_!" She reached out to grasp Drake's hand again, but before she could tow him along with her to the backyard, Launchpad spoke up.

"Hey, uh, DW?" Launchpad asked, tapping Drake on the shoulder. "Don't you think you ought to meet the neighbors first?"

"Why?" Drake shrugged. "They're just neighbors. How bad can they be?


End file.
